


Impetus

by hopeassassin



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-02-25
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1235896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeassassin/pseuds/hopeassassin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daiki was feeling restless.</p>
<p>Or: how an innocent little game can go horribly, <i>horribly</i> wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impetus

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dai--chan](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=dai--chan).



> Gift fic for dai—chan. The setting, ambiance and general outline of the story is hers, I merely lent a hand in making it happen.
> 
> I think it was a great prompt, but I’m not sure how well I pulled it off? Halfway through, I started really losing confidence that mashing together everything was a good idea. It started feeling forced, and, idek, not really possible anymore?? I dunno… I finished it anyway because dai—chan deserves all the love I can dish out! So, here we are. Hopefully it will be a good read.

Lately, Daiki had been feeling restless.

 

That, in itself, was rather unusual.

 

Unusual, not in the sense that it had been a while since he’d felt that way.

 

 

It was unusual in the sense that it was the first time in his life he felt like he couldn’t decide what to do with himself.

 

He was constantly on edge, constantly propelled forward by an innate need to move, to act, to just _do stuff_ —in hopes that doing something, _anything_ , would make this unpleasant, perpetual feeling of agitation go _the fuck away_.

 

The incessant nagging feeling in the back of his mind kept bugging him day and night, giving him little time to rest, little space to just be him, crowding his mind with the need for him to pay attention to it—to what end, he had _no freaking clue_.

 

He was feeling antsy and restless, and he had no idea _why_.

 

He just knew that he couldn’t stay in the same place for more than a few minutes before he felt like his head would burst with the need to move, like his heart would break out of his chest with his impatience to _do_ things—anything, really, as long as he got to be active.

 

It was odd and unnatural for him to be feeling restless. Especially _this_ restless. He didn’t know why he felt that way, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how to fix it. It was a stalemate he didn’t care much for, and one he tired of quickly.

 

So the only natural choice that he was left with was to vent the frustration that came with his perpetual agitation.

 

Now _that_ Daiki was a master of.

 

Where before he sometimes attended practice in vain attempts to stave off his boredom, in hopes that maybe he’d be able to meet semi-worthwhile opponents during practice matches, now he went to every single practice just for the excuse to exert himself.

 

He didn’t particularly care what his short-fused captain or puzzled coach thought of his newfound diligence. Their opinions never mattered to Daiki.

 

The only thing that _did_ matter was the blasé feeling that enveloped him after a mind-numbing work out.

 

Being the stamina freak he was, it took a sizeable amount of effort to achieve that bliss.

 

He had to do drills four or five times longer and more intensely, in order to arrive at the same state of exhaustion as the rest of his teammates.

 

He always ran the fastest, the longest, the farthest. He always jumped highest. He threw the ball towards the hoop with practiced ease, from any and every position around the hoop, while the rest of his teammates took turns and achieved only debatable success.

 

His newfound devotion in practice was as impressive as it was unforeseen. It garnered quite a few raised brows and stray questions, but Daiki brushed all of those off. He didn’t have half a mind to spare for their queries, nor did he have the capacity to rack his brains over nonsense nobody cared about—especially when he was feeling this restless.

 

All he _wanted_ to do was keep jumping, keep running, keep skidding around on the court, keep scoring in the familiar goal, hoping that maybe, just _maybe_ , if he scored enough times that gaping hole in his chest would stop bothering him. Hoping that maybe, if he spent enough effort, if his limbs were on the brink of total exhaustion, he wouldn’t have to feel that agitation anymore.

 

His wish was often granted: his mind remained blissfully voided of anything as long as he held a ball. As long as he was on court, zooming past flimsy guards and defence that couldn’t hold him, Daiki felt a bit more at peace. As long as his muscles ached, his joins hurting from exertion, he felt almost quiescent.

 

It was a short-lived paradise, but it was better than nothing.

 

And whenever he started feeling especially ill-tempered, he could always find some guys to play ball against—regardless how far under his league they were.

 

Daiki’s fervour, however, was naturally misinterpreted by the rest of the team. Wakamatsu sneered at his ace, thinking the bastard had chosen a fine time to get into the spirit of things. It would’ve been better than he had been this fired up while Imayoshi-san and them were still part of the team, instead of having waited for the seniors to graduate to get into the fighting spirit.

 

The Touou boys started looking up to Daiki for all his hard work, thinking him an exemplary player and something of an inspiration. That in itself was a good side effect—only if Daiki cared enough to that it was the affect he had on his juniors.

 

As for Satsuki and coach Harasawa—well. Their eyes were far too keen to be tricked by the glossy surface of whatever it was that Daiki was showcasing. But as long as the team won, neither coach, nor manager had anything to gripe about.

 

In fact, Satsuki was so awed by her childhood friend’s devotion that she didn’t miss the chance to commend him every time he improved his performance during practice. (Which was every following time, in fact—a natural result of spending time and energy on polishing one’s skill.)

 

Before, the pink-haired girl may have reconsidered twice before paying any kind of complement to her wilful classmate, but ever since she witnessed his earnest effort she felt it would be unfair of her to have harangued him to go to practice for a year, only to neglect the splendorous results he demonstrated when he did as she told him to.

 

Satsuki was a woman of many qualities, but double standards were not among them.

 

What surprised her just as much as Dai-chan’s sudden change of heart in regards to practice was the way in which he received her compliments.

 

Instead of getting a high head over the fact he’d earned some points with the team—and with her—he simply shrugged with one shoulder, giving her a different noncommittal response every time.

 

“Guess this is what I can do when I try,” he’d say. Or, “Just felt like it today.” Once he even told her, “Thanks”, while presenting the image of unabashed confidence itself.

 

And all of that bode great for the future of the team. Satsuki was happy that he finally seemed to be finding the joys of working hard at practice again.

 

But more than anything else she found the Dai-chan who gave his all to set an example for the other boys an inspiration.

 

That was one thing she’d never tell him to his face, though. She wouldn’t want to ruin his momentum, and it appeared to her that such a confession would only come as a hindrance.

 

However, not voicing it aloud didn’t change the fact that her eyes always followed him while he played, milking the last ounce of strength from his body at any given chance he had. She watched him from the side-lines, brow glistening with sweat, hair slickened back with effort, hands on his knee caps as he struggled to catch his breath after having run too fast for too long.

 

Her magenta eyes were glued to him while he jumped for a dunk, focus pinning to the glorious way the finely toned muscles of his powerful legs clenched and braced for the thrust. She watched, almost mesmerized, as his wide ribcage expanded and inflated frequently while he tried to calm his breathing.

 

There was something almost emotionally touching about the Dai-chan who kept shooting hoops with the freshmen, his fired with enviable ease, until the boys finally got the hang of it as well. There was something moving about the Dai-chan who ran lap after lap around the school grounds even on days when he didn’t need to, just because he had energy to spare.

 

She didn’t understand where all this enthusiasm of his had come from, but she wasn’t about to complain about it.

 

Especially not when it made watching him play the game he adored so _compelling_.

 

“Dai-chan,” she piped up as she sidled next to him after practice one day.

 

He peered at her from behind the towel he was wiping his face and hair with, giving her a grunt of acknowledgement before continuing to towel himself down.

 

“Good work today,” she continued conversationally, passing him a bottle of refreshingly cold water.

 

Daiki took the offering with a murmured word of thanks before greedily quenching his thirst.

 

“You seemed really into it,” she added with a smile, beaming up at him from the side.

 

“That so?” he threw out there noncommittally, making Satsuki raise a brow at his reaction. He seemed unusually disinterested in making conversation today.

 

“Yeah!” she enthused, hoping her spiritedness would get him into the mood to talk. “You were so inspired there today that it made me wonder if maybe I should try playing a little, too!”

 

Her tactic was an instant success. Daiki stopped guzzling water to award her with his most sceptical look.

 

“Play?” he echoed numbly. “Play _what_?”

 

“Basketball, of course!” Satsuki said with a wide grin.

 

He stared at her incredulously for a moment more before snorting a laugh.

 

“Hey! That’s rude!” Satsuki protested hotly, crossing her arms under her chest.

 

Her tall childhood friend cursed her inwardly for drawing his attention momentarily with the way it made her ample bosom bounce with the movement.

 

“No, it’s not—it’s courteous.” She gave him a wry look. “You make a joke – I laugh. It’s how it works.”

 

“It would be; _if_ I was joking,” she stressed, glaring at his profile. Her index finger tapped against her bare forearm.

 

Daiki threw her another puzzled glance.

 

“Say what now?”

 

The pink-haired girl sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes at him.

 

“Like I’m trying to tell you, I’ve been thinking lately of trying to dabble a little into it, too. Basketball!”

 

She was so radiant and exalted as she revealed her musings to him that she almost had him convinced.

 

_Almost_.

 

He stared at her, immobile, not a single muscle in his body moving, until he shook himself out of the stupor the following moment.

 

“You? Play basketball? That’s…” He sought for an appropriate epithet within his limited vocabulary. None of the words that came to mind really drew the effect he wanted to go for, so he left the sentence as it was, while proceeding to change out of his training jersey.

 

Satsuki puffed out her cheeks petulantly, her hands stretching angrily at her sides.

 

“What? Is the notion so outlandish you can’t even think of a way to label it?” she demanded, foot tapping against the ground.

 

Daiki considered her question in passing.

 

“Yes,” he concluded at length. That had been _exactly_ what he meant to say. See? That’s why she was the one with the words, and he was the one with the actions. Everyone needed to do their appointed role in order for the system to work properly, right?

 

Satsuki growled in frustration at his side, punching his arm none too gently. It succeeded in grabbing his attention anew.

 

“What?!” he snapped at her, rubbing his assaulted limb. For someone so tiny, she could sure deal some damage when she wanted.

 

“Come _on_ , Dai-chan, stop being so difficult,” she whined, pulling on his sleeve.

 

He scowled at her, his free hand immediately latching onto hers to yank it off his jersey before she ended up stretching it. Her hold refused to budge. Just _what_ did Auntie and Uncle feed this girl?! She was freakishly strong for a creature so petite.

 

“I really wanna try playing, just a little! And I already know most of the things, so you’ll just have to show me a little bit about the basics. _Please_?” she asked with a toothy grin.

 

Daiki deigned her with his most sardonic expression.

 

“I remember trying to teach you to play some years back,” he decided to remind her. Her face flushed hot with embarrassment at the recollection.

 

“That was a thousand years ago!”

 

The Touou ace scoffed, turning away from her. The crafty little minx still had his sleeve captive, damn her – he couldn’t make a proper escape this way.

 

“It doesn’t matter. Your eye-limb coordination was horrible then, it will still be horrible now. Just let it go, will you?”

 

Whether he meant their topic of conversation or his jersey sleeve, Satsuki neither knew nor cared to find out. She pressed on.

 

“Don’t be like that, Dai-chan! If you don’t have your standards so high, I’m sure you could even have some fun playing together!” she persisted, pulling harder on his arm now. He shook his head, trying to free himself from her hold to no avail.

 

“No way.”

 

“Oh, _please_. I know you played with Tetsu-kun’s _dog_ and enjoyed it. Surely I’ll be a tad better company than a doggie smaller than the ball itself!” When she saw the look he sent her way, she added with a smug smirk, “Tetsu-kun told me.”

 

Well, _that_ was embarrassing. No one was supposed to have seen _that_.

 

Still, the fact she knew from Tetsu left the question of how _Tetsu_ found out unanswered.

 

Daiki decided to disregard the train of thought before it grew any more disturbing than it already was.

 

He groaned when sensing his already imminent defeat at this point.

 

“You never cared to try before. Why now?” he tried one last time, deciding to rely on the one possible argument that could work in his favour.

 

Satsuki considered his question with a pensive smile.

 

“I don’t know. I just felt like giving it a try now, I guess.” He face faulted at her reasoning. She frowned at him in turn. “If you dislike the thought that much, I won’t make you.”

 

At long last, she unhanded him. She let go of his poor sleeve in favour of crossing her arms under her chest with a testy huff.

 

“That’s it?” he questioned, sure there must be some catch. There was no way she’d just let it go so easily.

 

“If you’re that against it, I’ll teach myself. It’s fine!” she told him in a prissy tone. His expression soured.

 

“You don’t even have a ball,” he supplied helpfully. She threw him a haughty smile.

 

“I’ll take yours—no biggie.”

 

At this, Daiki growled in annoyance. _No one_ took his basketball without his approval, least of all used it _without him_.

 

“Fat chance,” he seethed out while glaring at his childhood friend.

 

She gave him a triumphant smile.

 

“So it’s settled then?” she ascertained with a shameless grin.

 

Daiki held her gaze for a long moment, the intensity of his scrutiny willing her to yield.

 

She did not.

 

He sighed, breaking the eye contact. He ran an exasperated hand through his hair while collapsing onto the bench.

 

“We’ll go Saturday, at the court behind our houses. _If_ the weather is good enough,” he added, hoping against hope that it wouldn’t be.

 

Satsuki all but squealed, throwing her arms around his shoulders as she hugged him quickly.

 

“Thanks, Dai-chan! I knew I could count on you!” she exclaimed, prancing off with a bounce to her step to wrap up practice for the day.

 

Daiki gave her an impassive grunt as he proceeded to change his shoes.

 

All the while he made sure to assure himself that he did _not_ cling to the feeling of her soft breasts pressing up against his arm, nor did he savour the warmth of her body and her redolent aroma when she pressed her frame against his. _Nope_. No, he did not.

 

* * *

Daiki had spent a ridiculous amount of time the following week praying, for a boy who had never been particularly religious.

 

He blamed his previous negligence towards the higher forces for the fact that no matter how hard he prayed for rain on Saturday, the day was an annoyingly sunny and great one for outings.

 

It was thus, with a heavy heart, that he resigned himself to his fate that afternoon.

 

The truth of the matter, however, was that staying at home during the day had left him even more restless than usual. So maybe, just maybe, he was kind of willingly going out to play with Satsuki, even though there was no question it wouldn’t be something worth mentioning at the end of day.

 

He waited for her a little ways outside their yards. The navy-haired teen dribbled the ball absentmindedly, cursing himself and his retarded promises under his breath. Why had he let her rope him into this nonsense to begin with? He was stupid. There were better ways to deal with his agitation than this farce, he was sure.

 

“Here I am! Sorry for making you wait, Dai-chan!” she chirped as she flew out of her house, racing to stand next to him.

 

It was only through years upon years of handling a ball that Daiki catches it the moment he feels that it’s slipping his control. For when he lay his eyes upon his childhood friend, a lot of bodily reactions slipped his control—for instance, his jaw fell slack.

 

A myriad thoughts flashed through his mind at the sight of her, but one of them stood out as the one with most staggering clarity of all.

 

_What the hell was she wearing?!_

He had no idea how the process of choosing such clothing attire actually went.

 

He was almost certain, though, that she had hit the stores with the thought, ‘I want to find the shortest shorts and the most snug-fitting tank top I can!’ and ended up with the things she was wearing now. There was little doubt in his mind about it.

 

Despite the depth of his bewilderment, Daiki was still pretty sure that his outraged pondering at her outfit had only registered as a thought in his mind.

 

However, when Satsuki’s smile became more devilish, he had to wonder.

 

“Do you like it? It’s my new sports outfit! It’s super easy to move in.”

 

She stressed the statement by jogging on the spot—which was a horror in itself, on several levels (especially at the way her short shorts emphasized the length of her perfectly toned thighs and the jiggle of her breasts within the confines of the tight tank top).

 

He shook his head in dismay at her, taking off towards the court across the street with the most morose stride he could manage.

 

“I thought we were supposed to be here to play ball,” he said numbly, just as they were arriving at the court.

 

Satsuki beamed back at him.

 

“Yes, exactly!”

 

“We’re here to play ball, _not_ for you to be picking up guys.”

 

Satsuki frowned at him, crossing her arms with a sardonic crease of her brow.

 

“Dai-chan,” she started flatly, “we’re the only ones here.” She pointed it out helpfully for him.

 

He rolled his azure eyes.

 

“So you made a miscalculation,” he amended quickly.

 

Satsuki’s smile morphed into a sly, crooked smirk.

 

“Oh, Dai-chan. You know I don’t make miscalculations,” she told him ambiguously just as she started stretching her arms.

 

Daiki huffed, facing away from her. Gross generalization—not to mention the debatable truthfulness of it—aside, he could not help feeling like she was going for some kind of double entendre there.

 

The Touou ace shook his head to clear it of the pointless ponderings. He took his sleeveless hoodie off, throwing it at the base of the goal.

 

“Okay then,” he said with a sigh, picking up the ball. “Let’s see what you got.”

 

He passed the basketball to her when he was sure she was paying attention. (The very last thing he needed was for them to go home that day with her nose smashed and having to explain to both their parents how that happened.)

 

“What should I do?” she asked, excitement bubbling in her tone. Daiki refrained from rolling his eyes at her.

 

“Dribble the ball, for a start,” he instructed curtly.

 

She did as told, dribbling the ball on the spot. He decided to give her credit for the fact that—unlike some girls from their class—at least she was handling it with her whole palm; not as if she was afraid touching it might break her manicure.

 

“ _While_ moving,” he reminded her, this time unable to keep himself from rolling his eyes. How was she supposed to do anything if she couldn’t do both at once?

 

She did as told, making penguin-like steps around while she dribbled the ball.

 

Daiki was caught between bursting in tears and bursting in laughter. She was the most ridiculous sight he’d ever seen on court—it didn’t suit her the least.

 

And that _damn outfit_ of hers was making it hard to focus on anything, goddamn it!

 

Once she was content with her control of the ball, she caught it and fixed him with eyes twinkling with excitement.

 

“How was that?” she asked him, a thrilled breathlessness to her voice.

 

“Not sure if hilariously tragic, or tragically hilarious.”

 

The heavy ball flew towards his face with an impressive force. It was only through his lightning-fast reflexes that he kept it from colliding with his nose.

 

“Do it seriously, Dai-chan!” Satsuki exploded, stomping her foot in indignation.

 

Daiki rolled his eyes, resigning another—larger—part of himself to this spectacle.

 

“Okay, okay…” he agreed reluctantly, taking a few strides towards her while dribbling the ball. “First, your pose is all wrong.”

 

The childlike excitement returned to her face when she realized that he had heeded her words. She held onto every single word he said.

 

“You need to stand like this,” he said, showing her. She mirrored his stance, sending him a searching glance afterwards. “Yeah, like that,” Daiki continued encouragingly. “And you need to have a good feeling of the ball under your fingers. Don’t treat it like it’s something you’re barely keeping in your reach.”

 

They spent a while teaching her how to dribble properly. She was so ridiculously peppy about it he found it hard to begrudge her the enthusiasm.

 

What he _did_ begrudge her the entire time, though, was her ridiculous choice of dress. How was he supposed to focus on _anything_ but her creamy white legs as she crouched next to him in a way that was definitely illegal in those shorts?

 

How was he supposed to teach her how to shoot properly, when his whole hand basically glued itself to her bare flesh as he guided her arms? It was just—Was she doing it on purpose? He couldn’t help but wonder. There was no way she was that clueless, right?

 

Still, her enthusiasm seemed genuine enough, so he bit the inside of his cheek until he felt the metallic tang seep into his mouth. He refused to breathe a word about it, even if his mind started drawing blanks while he stood behind her as he corrected her shooting pose.

 

She pumped her fist in the air the first time she made a proper shot.

 

“Did you see that?!” she exalted, a happy bounce to her voice.

 

Daiki couldn’t help a small smirk himself.

 

“Yes, yes, I saw it,” he said with a chuckle, fetching the ball. “Now keep doing that until you get five consecutive ones.”

 

“Piece of cake!”

 

He shook his head as he watched her shoot. He realized the severity of the mistake when he noticed the heart-stopping way her chest bounced every time the ball left her grasp.

 

Finding what else to keep his gaze trained upon—and keeping it from straying again and again to her tummy showing from underneath her tank top—was even more trying than teaching Satsuki how not to dribble like a penguin.

 

“Teach me more, master!” Satsuki enthused while pulling her long ponytail into a bun with a second hair band.

 

Daiki smirked at her, averting his eyes as covertly as he could from the way her pink tresses—dewy with moisture—stuck to the nape of her neck before she got them out of her way.

 

“Okay, let’s see you do a screen.”

 

He knew even before they got to this part that it would be the most excruciating exercise of all. As if it wasn’t already bad enough that he could _see_ her that close, he even had to _feel_ her heat when she loomed next to him now.

 

The Touou player was absolutely sure that there was a special circle in hell where this kind of shit happened to you all day long, every day—a perpetual cycle of teasing and frustration that eventually drove anyone insane.

 

Somehow, they managed to power through the lesson of screening. The more impressive part being that Daiki didn’t even skimp all _that_ much on her defence, too. She’d definitely established a rather passable amount of screening ability by the time he deemed it worthy to move on.

 

“Let’s play a game!” Satsuki exclaimed at length, after scoring from the three point line.

 

Her companion cocked an amused eyebrow at her.

 

“Play _a game_? Together?” he clarified, because the notion was mind-boggling to him.

 

His wryness didn’t dampen her enthusiasm any, but she did give him a deadpan look.

 

“Dai-chan, I know about the dog, okay?”

 

“Will you give that a rest already!” he almost shouted, wanting to run away and hide from her sight and the no-nonsense look in her clear eyes.

 

“I know! We can have some handicaps for you—so that it will still be interesting to you!”

 

Daiki eyed her curiously.

 

“Handicaps? Like what, for an example?”

 

Satsuki tapped her finger against her chin sagely.

 

“Let me think… Well, for starters, I will be the only one who is allowed to screen.” She returned the look he sent her with a level one of her own. “Dai-chan, you’re freakishly tall. You already tower over me. If you get allowed to fling your arms around, I’ll never be able to even take a shot at the basket,” she explained sensibly.

 

And, he’d be damned—she had a point there.

 

“Fine, I won’t pressure you when you shoot. What else?”

 

If she didn’t know any better, she’d say that he almost sounded _intrigued_.

 

Satsuki’s lips curled into an impish smile.

 

“Hmm, well, I don’t know yet. We’ll see as the game progresses.”

 

“Fine by me,” he said, stretching his arms. “Your ball.”

 

As they started their improvised game, whenever he was on the verge of scoring, she always came up with some new, ridiculous rule that made it impossible for him to make the shot.

 

At the start, it took him some time to catch up with all the things she made up, but once he did, he started scoring basket after basket, thanks to his insanely unfair (Satsuki’s words) formless shooting.

 

“New rule!” Satsuki announced after catching the ball when it bounced after making the goal. “If your feet leave the ground for anything but to take a step, I automatically get two points.”

 

Daiki grimaced, standing upright from his semi-crouch.

 

“What? You want me to stop jumping?”

 

“There’s a smart boy,” Satsuki commented mischievously, dribbling the ball nonchalantly.

 

The Touou ace took a pause to wrap his mind around her request.

 

“How am I supposed to _not jump_ at all? I do it on instinct!” he protested fervently. His words only made his friend’s evil grin widen.

 

“Subdue it, then. Or, you can keep jumping—but then I’ll be the one who keeps making the points without even straining a single muscle,” she told him placidly in a melodious lilt.

 

Daiki huffed, rolling his eyes.

 

“That’s ridiculous.”

 

“Oh,” she said, as though hit with a sudden epiphany. “Oh, I understand. This time the handicap was too big for the mighty scorer. I get it—it’s fine, then. Let’s continue like we were before. Play ball.”

 

Despite her continued insistence through the years, Daiki was not an idiot. Or, at least, he wasn’t _that_ stupid: he knew perfectly well when he was being toyed with. Therefore he was perfectly aware that she was purposefully pressing his buttons now. He _knew_ that.

 

Yet he still rose to the challenge. He took her taunt head on and allowed himself to be goaded. He let her drag him into her pace.

 

He did it knowingly and willingly.

 

“ _Fine_. _No_ jumping,” he agreed ill-temperedly, settling back into his semi-crouching position. “You’re really pushing your luck, though.”

 

Satsuki smiled widely, a skip to her step as she jumped with the ball.

 

“Say what you want,” she sung out, bouncing the ball against the concrete one last time. “You haven’t complained about being bored even _once_ since we started this.”

 

When she pointed it out explicitly, it made him realize the truth of her statement.

 

All her ridiculous little rule additions and limitations had made him focus and find the whole ordeal somewhat challenging—and maybe just a bit interesting.

 

He smirked wolfishly at her.

 

“Whatever—this game will be mine, no matter how hard you try to stop me from taking it.”

 

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” Satsuki taunted back, throwing him the ball.

 

The No Jumping rule proved to be the hardest of them all.

 

He’d meant it when he told her that he jumped on impulse. It was through years and years of practice and playing that he knew when and what to do, how exactly to jump, how high, at what angle to throw the ball once he was airborne.

 

He gave her over a dozen free points before he started getting the hang of it.

 

She wasn’t far behind him, though. Once it sunk in that she needed to get more active if she wanted to win him, she spent a considerable effort screening him, pouncing around on her tiptoes to stop him from making his shots.

 

This led to Daiki having to be more crafty and dexterous than usual, needing to flip the ball from the possession of one hand to another, while Satsuki all but prostrated herself over him while trying to reach the rotund prize.

 

The tanned teen swallowed thickly when her front pressed snugly against his back, Satsuki’s small hand jabbing at the ball which he held out of her reach. He’d been so carried away with their nonsense before that—so focused on playing this basketball-wannabe game with her, that it had completely slipped his notice that she was _still_ wearing those sadistic shorts, and, what was worse, after her exertion, her whole skin was glistening with a thin sheen of sweat.

 

The way it glistened made him want to run his hand over the moist expanses of her bare flesh. He wanted to glide his palm over it and wipe the small beads of sweat away. He wanted to smooth the droplets off of her frame, and drip his hand in the back of her shirt, where he felt the heat radiating off of her in waves.

 

He shook his head to clear it when he realized she was almost in possession of the ball. He pivoted on a foot, keeping both his legs firmly planted on the ground as he flung the basketball at the goal.

 

“Damn it,” Satsuki cursed softly, wiping her brow with her wrist band. “I almost had that one.”

 

Daiki snorted, opening his mouth to drop a sarcastic comment about how grossly far she had been from ‘almost having that one’, but the comment died on his lips when Satsuki dabbed the back of her neck with her hand, smoothing back the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck.

 

The navy-haired boy stared at her, transfixed for a moment, until she turned her gaze to him again.

 

“I’ll get you back for that one,” she promised. He smirked at her.

 

“I’d like to see you try,” he taunted, getting back into their usual taunt-for-taunt dance before resuming their game.

 

From then on, their little game became even more ardent than it already was.

 

It also became a lot more physical, with a lot of bodily pressing onto one another, a lot more Daiki standing on his tiptoes away and out of Satsuki’s reach, a lot more intelligent flinging of the ball from one hand to another.

 

And the entire time, as she kept pushing up against him, her boobs mashing against his frame, or the softness of slender leg brushing against him when she made a jump while fouling him—if he was allowed to have fouls, which he wasn’t, as they’d established earlier—he started feeling the familiar restlessness in his body.

 

Only this time it was a lot worse.

 

Instead of the usual dull buzz in the back of his mind, Daiki felt it like a painful throb in his veins now. He wanted to scratch at his arms and legs, desperate in search of how to make it stop, of how to make it go away.

 

He bit on the inside of his cheek to keep his concentration for slipping while Satsuki attempted to snatch the ball from him while he pivoted on his foot.

 

It was when she carelessly slipped and crashed fully into him that Daiki knew he could take no more. His mind felt like it would implode. Her proximity was driving him crazy, and the clumsiness as she strived to grab for the ball was aggravating him.

 

He wanted to push her away from him so she stopped sticking so close. He wanted to shove her away, or jump out of her reach, so her ludicrously sweet scent wouldn’t waft to his nose anymore.

 

But more than any of that, he wanted to just push her down, pin her to the ground, spread her legs and make her scream until her throat gave out.  

 

And in that moment, when that stray bit of insanity flew through his mind, it hit him.

 

It hit him like a ton of bricks.

 

The unspeakable restlessness he’d been enduring, the way he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her mockingly skimpy outfit, the way he woke up with a start every other night, drenched in sweat and breathing ragged.

 

He knew what was wrong with him.

 

He’d probably known all along.

 

Maybe that’s why he pretended not to see, not to understand.

 

It was certainly easier that way.

 

He let go of the ball, leaving it to bounce on the ground until it stopped entirely. Satsuki threw him a confused look.

 

“I’ll go get some water,” he mumbled before shuffling his feet automatically in the direction of the nearby stone sink.

 

Daiki let the water run in a strong stream, washing his hands and arms all the way up to his shoulders—in hopes of cooling himself off.

 

When it didn’t work, he put his head under the running water, sighing in contentment at the feeling it granted him.

 

His bliss was short-lived, however, when the thought he’d been running from for months came back to haunt him.

 

He turned the faucet off, resting the entire weight of his upper body upon the stone sink’s basin. He hung his head low, running a hand down his face as he wrapped his mind around the notion.

 

How long had it been since he stopped thinking of Satsuki like just a friend? How long had it been since she wasn’t simply someone who was always just… _kind of there_? When had he started noticing her in this way that made his heart ill at ease?

 

Not that it mattered. His chest deflated as he let the truth of the matter sink in. Pining after someone was unsightly to begin with, but pining after someone who would never see him as anything but just a friend was retarded.

 

He wished he hadn’t noticed. He wished he hadn’t played this game with her. Ignorance had certainly been bliss.

 

He didn’t need the pictures his imagination projected in his mind’s eye as a reaction to the need for relief for his restlessness. He didn’t need to know those things. He didn’t need to see them, he didn’t need to imagine them—he didn’t need to think of _Satsuki_ like that.

 

It was ugly. _He_ was ugly. No amount of hormonal rampage in his body—product of puberty or not—was ever going to make any of this okay by Daiki.

 

He didn’t need this shit. He didn’t need this kind of useless complication.

 

He wanted his carefree days of just playing ball back.

 

“Dai-chan,” her soft-spoken voice pulled him out of the reverie with a start.

 

His head snapped up, eyes wide and frantic as they settled upon her silhouette—breath-taking in the outfit that hugged her curves in a scandalous yet endlessly flattering way.

 

He swallowed thickly as he looked at her, took in the worried crease of her brow—his gaze skidding down the tantalizing curve of her hip.

 

He felt the air still in his lungs as the weight of his previous train of thought slammed through him, when his eyes followed the flawlessness of her frame, outlined by the setting sun behind her, bathing her in orange and reddish hues, making her seem even more radiant and ephemeral.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked, her head tilted to the side with concern.

 

He could hear his heart thrumming in his ears. Their little game hadn’t tired him at all, yet here he was, heart racing, pulse running a thousand beats per minute.

 

It was so pathetic it was almost sad.

 

Daiki felt a droplet of water slide on the side of his face while he composed himself.

 

“I’m fine,” he told her easily. She almost believed it. “Let’s get back to our game.”

 

He brushed past her, ignoring the worried look she was burying into him from behind.

 

He seriously wished he hadn’t noticed. Nothing good was going to come of this.

 

* * *

Thirty minutes later found Daiki thumping his forehead against the cold marble of his bathroom tiles. He lifted his head slightly off the smooth surface only to let it painfully collide again, in hopes doing something like this would knock any and all improper thoughts he would rather no deal with.

 

It didn’t work— _surprise, surprise_ —but the dull throb of pain the action brought was reprieve enough for the time being.

 

The rest of their improvised game had been a complete disaster for Daiki. He made an effort to act normal and to behave like he did before. It was a bit difficult considering the kind of revelation he’d had—not to mention how hard Satsuki was making it for him additionally, with those _clothes_ of hers.

 

He groaned loudly, taking a disdained glimpse down at himself. No, this was not happening. He refused to let it.

 

His hand turned the faucet, adjusting the water, until the liquid pouring down on him from the shower head was almost completely cold.

 

He was _not_ going to jerk himself off to thoughts of Satsuki—thoughts he shouldn’t be having in the first place! He shook his head to clear it of the improper mental imagery. His moist navy spikes stuck to his head, chilling him. His temper was cooling off, little by little, as he breathed slowly in and out.

 

So what if he did have a retarded little crush on someone he shouldn’t? So what if it was beyond his control? He wasn’t going to let himself wallow in self-pity—pitiable though it was.

 

He got out of that shower fifteen minutes later, feeling paradoxically like crap while being significantly refreshed thanks to his long, cold shower.

 

The Touou ace had firmly decided that he wasn’t going to be bothered by bullshit anymore. In commemoration of that, he hunched over on his bed, giving a try to the portable game console he’d snagged from Ryou last week.

 

The door to his room opened not much later. He didn’t even have to look up to know who had invited themselves into his room like they owned the place.

 

“Dai-chan!” Satsuki exulted, all but throwing herself in the seat next to him on his bed. The mattress bounced slightly under the addition of her weight. “What are you up to?”

 

She asked while leaning in to peer in his hands’ grasp. The action was innocent enough, but in bringing her head so close to him, by inclining so near, she made him painfully aware of the fact she was fresh out of the bath herself.

 

At that point, Daiki was certain that his perceptions—as far as she was concerned—were probably twisted and not quite true to reality. He was bound to be hyperbolizing the qualities of the girl he was drawn to so strongly physically, so his musings were not to be trusted.

 

However, he’d be damned if she didn’t smell like flowers, spring and fucking _perfection_ when she leaned in to peer over his shoulder.  

 

When the sweetness of her scent wafted to his nostrils, he snapped his gaze up to her, his chest constricting. He stared her down, eyes slightly widened, as she reciprocated his scrutiny with curiosity.

 

He swallowed thickly, keen sapphire orbs drawn to the way her still moist hair clung to her neck.

 

“Nothing,” he muttered, sounding ill-tempered when he finally found his voice again. His vocal chords were being extremely uncooperative. “Wasting time till dinner.”

 

She gave him a thoughtful hum, reclining further forward, oblivious to his plight. Daiki did his best to inch away from her as far as he could without actually moving from his position.

 

“I didn’t know you owned games like this,” she mused pensively, watching his fingers fly over the controls absentmindedly.

 

“I don’t,” he concurred, turning his attention back to the game. “It’s Ryou’s. He lent it to me.”

 

Satsuki gave him a wry look, crossing her legs as she sat more comfortably next to him.

 

In her doing so, he noticed that even if she’d changed into a bit better of an outfit, her shorts and shirt were still too suggestive for his liking.

 

“When did you get it?” she asked him, suspicion sneaking in her voice.

 

“A week ago or something,” he responded, hoping he came off as noncommittal and disinterested. Because he was having a difficult time focusing on the game and _not_ on her infuriatingly refreshing scent and crossed legs.

 

“That’s not nice, Dai-chan,” she told him flatly. “Make sure you give it back. You bully Sakurai-kun too much.”

 

“He said I could keep it as long as I want—come off it,” he said with a roll of his eyes, genuinely irked with her mentor-like tone.

 

“He’s just terrified of you – of course he’ll say something like that when you pressure him!”

 

Daiki grunted, her topic of conversation failing completely to catch his fancy. She was wrong anyway—Ryou wasn’t particularly scared of him. The two boys shared a bond that was beyond what he could explain to Satsuki’s girlish mind—she simply didn’t get it.

 

And he didn’t really care enough to correct her, so he left it at that.

 

Seeing that she was getting ignored, Satsuki huffed. She pressed her back against the wall Daiki was resting against as well.

 

“Say, Dai-chan,” she started almost wistfully, “I did win our basketball game, didn’t I?”

 

The dark-skinned adolescent clicked his tongue.

 

“That could hardly be called basketball,” he grouched, mood souring immediately at the reminder.

 

“True,” Satsuki relented, “but you still agreed to play by the rules I made up, and you still lost according to them. So that means I get to be the king now!”

 

Daiki paused his game to throw her an incredulous look from beneath his furrowed brows.

 

“What the hell?”

 

“Well, yes! It only makes sense that the loser would have to do what the winner says! Like the King game!” Satsuki clapped her hands merrily together, obviously content with her deranged logic.

 

Daiki massaged the bridge of his nose to fight back to oncoming headache.

 

“That wasn’t part of our agreement,” he pointed out in vain.

 

“It is now,” she said with a toothy grin.

 

He rolled his eyes from her in exasperation, swearing that not even a tiny part of him believed she looked endearing doing that.

 

“That’s retarded—you can’t just keep making up whatever you want at your own convenience. It doesn’t work that way.”

 

She beamed back at him.

 

“I just did, though.”

 

Daiki scoffed loudly, turning away. He un-paused his game and resumed his adventure from before she’d so rudely waltzed into his room and started prattling on about nonsense.

 

“Well, count me out of it.”

 

She glared at him, probably understanding additional convincing would be necessary if she expected him to dance to her tune this time.

 

Not that he was planning on it. He’d wasted way too much of his precious day on her.

 

The very last thing he needed was this deceptively alluring, fresh out of the bathroom Satsuki going all high and mighty on him and bossing him around—in his own room, no less—for the remainder of the day.

 

“Think of it as a punishment game,” she started in a cajoling tone.

 

“Dealing with you on the court was punishment enough. I think I’ve atoned whatever sins I had,” Daiki flung back disinterestedly.

 

Much to his surprise, his testy response got Satsuki thinking.

 

“Speaking of our game, it was kind of surprising that I ended up winning—all things considered.” He swallowed dryly, pressing down with more fervour on the buttons than needed. “We were pretty even for a while, and then suddenly I started winning by a landslide. What was that?”

 

He ignored her a bit too pointedly to be inconspicuous. She gave him a lopsided smile, smacking his arm to prompt him to speak.

 

“Ow, knock it off,” he grumbled. When she tried to hit him again, he brushed her hand away before it could connect with his body.

 

“Come on, tell me. Your King demands to know: why’d you start doing so bad all of a sudden?”

 

“I just got tired of keeping up with your stupidity, so I threw the game. Happy?” he snapped back, baring his teeth in warning at her. She was unamused.

 

“No way, you’re lying. You were so into it the whole time—there’s no way you wanted to throw the game. Tell me why you stopped trying.”

 

She was close. Too close. She was all he could see.

 

This was bad. He attempted to get away from her, inching away from her on the bed, but she didn’t let him have much leeway.

 

“I guess I just got distracted. What do you care?”

 

“You were _distracted_?” she echoed in disbelief. His eyes narrowed anew in annoyance. “What got you so distracted you started missing shots? I thought you missed them on purpose, but now you say you didn’t mean to? It just happened?”

 

He cursed himself inwardly. This was really bad. He didn’t particularly like being cornered, but she was taking it to a whole new level.

 

As if that wasn’t bad enough on its own, she was so close she was practically in his lap.

 

“Can you get out of my face?” he growled, trying to push her away. She didn’t budge.

 

“No way. Answer me first, and then I might,” she insisted. “I’m your King, Dai-chan, and I want to know at least this: why’d you lose? What got you so distracted? Why don’t you want to tell me?”

 

The instances in Daiki’s life when he’d felt so cornered he ended up panicking were very few and far between. However, that very moment when Satsuki stared imploringly with her shining eyes at him from up so close, he imagined he knew exactly what wild animals felt like when cornered.

 

His fight or flight instinct kicked in, empowering his limbs as he reached out towards Satsuki.

 

He grabbed her by the shoulders, effectively hefting her up—to push her away from him.

 

He got off his bed, putting even more space between them, when he realized he may have put a bit too much strength in that. Satsuki glowered evilly at him from underneath her dishevelled fringe, her limbs sprawled in an undignified manner from his shove.

 

The ace cursed under his breath, a pang of guilt suddenly spearing through him. The intensity of her glare only made it worse.

 

“Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—”

 

“Didn’t mean to _what_?!” she spat angrily back at him, cutting him off. She squinted at him, brushing her wet fringe out of her vision. “Throw me that _hard_?”

 

He clamped his mouth shut, realizing she was probably right.

 

Another thing he discovered very quickly was that leaving her out of his watchful eye for any stretch of time was a grave mistake. One moment of inattention and she had kicked his knees out from underneath him, causing him to collapse in a disgraceful heap on the plush carpet of his room.

 

“Hey, what the _fuck_ , Satsuki—!” he began to protest in outrage. That’s when he saw her crawling towards him on all fours on the floor of his room.

 

He swallowed thickly and dragged himself backwards, away from her.

 

“What the hell is wrong with you today?” the pink-haired girl demanded imperiously, a certain steadfastness to her voice. She continued inching closer and closer, her brows narrowing further and further over her eyes the more effort it was taking her to _reach_ him. “And where the hell do you think you’re going? Seriously, Dai-chan, what gives?”

 

Daiki’s heart leapt in his throat. He felt the sideboard of his bed hit his back. He threw a quick look to his side to gather his wits about his surroundings, only to realize that she had backed him into a corner. He was stuck between his bed and wall, and the encroaching predator that Satsuki currently was.

 

Suppressing the urge to swallow dryly again was impossible.

 

She glared at him severely when she noticed he was trying to make an escape sideways this time.

 

“Can you just _stop squirming_ already? How unsightly!” she exclaimed, pinning him down in place by straddling his hips. She loomed over him while resting her weight on her arms on either side of his head.

 

Thus she successfully caged him in.

 

More importantly than that, she made him _severely_ uncomfortable with the position she had taken. The very last thing he needed right now was to have her legs spread in such close vicinity of his crotch, or having her ass perched atop his abdomen.

 

She exhaled slowly through her nose. He wished she wouldn’t, or that if she did, she did it somewhere further away from his face. At the proximity they were at right now, he could feel her breath breezing against his face, and her maddeningly sweet fragrance carried to him even easier.

 

“Now, how about you calm down a little and tell big sis what the problem was earlier, huh?”

 

Finding his voice was a trying task. Finding his words and language was even harder.

 

“You’re not that much older than me—come off the big sis nonsense,” he threw back at her as flippantly as he could manage. Which wasn’t a great deal, considering…

 

She face faulted at him. She tightened her knees’ hold on him in retaliation.

 

For the umpteenth time in the past few days, Daiki was forced to realize that this girl packed a tremendous punch whenever she so pleased. His sides hurt where her kneecaps dug in. He growled and tried to shove her off of him but to no avail.

 

“All right, then. You lost in our game to me, and this is your punishment game for it,” she said slowly, leaning in. Her dainty arms snaked around his neck, cornering him even further than he already was. “So tell your King, will you? What got you so distracted you lost so spectacularly?”

 

If the ground could open up and swallow him whole, Daiki would be the happiest boy in existence. He wanted to be anywhere—absolutely _anywhere_ , even back at that hell that was the end of middle school—but here.

 

He didn’t want to be looking up at Satsuki who was straddling him, with her teasingly short outfits and alluringly form-fitting shirts. He didn’t want to be looking up at her from just a neck’s stretch distance away from her cute face—not when this was really happening and he’d be held responsible for anything stupid he did.

 

It was a set up in which he didn’t have much he could do. So he just stayed like he was, stoned to the spot. He didn’t even move a single muscle, didn’t think, didn’t breathe—as much as the latter was physically possible.

 

Satsuki expected his answer patiently, until she no longer could muster up any patience with him. She sighed deeply in exasperation, letting her hands slide down from her hold on him, grabbing onto his shoulders in her ire.

 

“So what, now you’ll clam up and refuse to tell me? Is that it?” When he didn’t respond, she growled and sank her nails into his shoulders. “Stop messing around with me.”

 

This would most probably have been the end of it.

 

Satsuki was annoyed with him, thus no longer finding poking fun at him, well, _fun_. She was probably going to push him around a bit more, then let the matter go.

 

It probably would’ve ended there, if he hadn’t fucking _moaned_.

 

Out of all the retarded reactions his body could have to her manhandling him like that, he just _had_ to _moan_ at the way she brutally raked her hand down his shoulder and arm, digging her fingers into his flesh.

 

And if she wasn’t fucking sitting in his goddamned lap, if she hadn’t barged into his room just after she’d burst out of her bathroom, if she wasn’t so _freaking close_ , he was sure he wouldn’t have reacted like that.

 

It was her entire fault that he’d made that guttural sound when she’d attempted to hurt him.

 

But now he was going to be the one who’d have to deal with the consequences.

 

Because there was no way she was going to back down, leave him alone, as long as she had a new source of entertainment.

 

He knew immediately he was in deep trouble when her eyes lit up.

 

“What was that?” she asked, mirth lacing her tone. Her magenta eyes twinkled with amusement as they bore into his face, which was twisting in mounting dread.

 

“Nothing,” he almost squeaked out, renewing his attempts to squirm out of her grasp.

 

It was pointless. Her hold on him had only tightened, making it impossible to even _move_ away from her.

 

“Did you just moan?” He kept his mouth shut, no longer trusting it not to make sounds that would betray him. Satsuki’s elatedness seeped into her facial features, curling her lips into an impish smile. “Dai-chan, are you enjoying this?”

 

“Oh, yes—I’ve been struggling to get away from you this whole time, and I definitely look like someone enjoying what’s going on.” He really hoped he managed to say that sarcastically. Sarcasm was difficult when all he wanted to do was whimper and curl into a ball where she couldn’t bully him anymore.

 

“Well, that’s what I thought, too. You certainly don’t _look_ like you’re enjoying it. So that moan was really unexpected.”

 

Oh no. She was giving him _that_ look.

 

He’d only seen a lesser version of it a few times when they were younger, sometimes during basketball games, too. He didn’t want to be the recipient of it—dear gods, _no_. Most certainly not when she was straddling his lap and taking up his entire field of vision thanks to their proximity.

 

He expected to see what she’d do with bated breath. However, the way she started gently caressing the line of his jaw and the side of his face was _not_ what he’d mentally braced himself for. Neither was the way she tenderly twined her fingers in the drying spikes of his hair. He also definitely wasn’t ready for the way she leaned in further, her forehead almost touching against his, while she continued petting him like you would a cat.

 

“What are you doing?” he demanded to know. The panic in his voice was mounting—visibly so—yet he couldn’t be bothered with revealing that to her, because he was too busy being alarmed at her actions rather than her options.

 

She smiled mischievously as she continued her gentle caressing of his head, one of her hands venturing down to knead his shoulders.

 

“I’m playing nice,” she told him sweetly, her voice barely above a whisper.

 

She was leaning closer to his ear when she spoke, and the way her breath fanned against his lobe made a knot in his stomach tighten. Her face’s proximity to his neck and her hands’ travels over the expanses of his body made for a very uncomfortable set up.

 

“You’re playing _dirty_ ,” he hissed out venomously.

 

She giggled at his choice of words, pressing her front closer into his chest. In the movement, her ass brushed against his crotch. When she moved again to angle her face closer to his ear, it was almost too much to bear.

 

“Well, since you refused to play along with the other punishment game, you can think of this as its updated version,” she purred into his lobe, tongue flicking at the top of his ear shell. He shuddered underneath her, teeth sinking into his lower lip to keep him from making any traitorous sounds. “It’s your own fault for not doing as your King commands you.”

 

It should’ve been just an innocent claim. So why was it that it sounded like the sultriest thing he’d heard Satsuki say ever?

 

This was bad. It was really bad. She was continuing with the occasional rubbing of her lower body against him. It might’ve seemed innocent enough to her, but his body was having an anything _but_ innocent reaction to her ministrations.

 

“Satsuki,” he rasped out, his voice wired with tension. “You need to _stop_. You have no idea what you’re doing.”

 

She giggled again, running her fingers down his shoulders and chest while reclining forward to take the soft flesh of his ear into her mouth, flicking at it playfully with her tongue. Daiki sucked hard on a breath, clutching his eyes shut and fighting down the feelings her actions were rousing in him.

 

“Oh, but I do,” she corrected him kindly.

 

She grazed his neck with her teeth, watching with amusement how his flesh broke out into goosebumps underneath her warm breath.

 

“I know you feel safe doing whatever you want with me, but you should know there are things you _don’t mess around with_ when you’re dealing with guys.” He managed to say most of his piece before his voice broke into a pitiful groan. She just had to clamp her open mouth down on the crook of his neck while he was speaking.

 

“Is that so?” she piped in conversationally before sucking hard on the sensitive skin of his neck.

 

That’s about as long as Daiki’s patience and (rather impressive, actually) self-control allowed things to go.

 

He didn’t get away earlier, because he would have had to throw her off him again, with even more force than he had before. He didn’t want to risk hurting her, or bruising her ego by flinging her around like a rag doll. So he had endured, in hopes she’d grow bored of her little game soon enough.

 

He hadn’t really said anything to her about the way she’d chosen to mess with him, because it would’ve only made her even more curious and even more annoying about it. In the long run, it would be the wrong choice of action.

 

However, when she continuously kept messing with him like this, regardless of them knowing each other for an eternity and their families being such close friends, there were certain things Daiki could not allow her to get away with.

 

The thread of his patience snapped with a nearly-audible sound, he could almost swear it. And after it did, he took a firm hold of her by her thighs, standing up quickly before manoeuvring them around to pin her down on his bed.

 

He pressed her up, stuck securely between his body and the mattress behind her. The look in his eyes was wild, borderline manic, in the complete depletion of his patience. He took hold of her wrists and pinned them over her head, where her hands wouldn’t be able to mischievously wander over his strained body.

 

“You want to know what got me distracted?” he growled out furiously, breathing laboured from his mounting ire.

 

For a moment, Satsuki appeared bewildered by the suddenness of the change in position. She got a grasp of the situation quick enough, and, to her credit, didn’t look overly alarmed at the suddenly subjugated position she was taking underneath him.

 

She gave him a nod with a demure smile, which only pissed him off more. This girl had no fucking idea what she was playing with. Her games were neither _fun_ , nor _funny_. This was _not cool_.

 

He pushed his lower body, along with his half-hard erection against her clothed, spread legs to let her know just how not cool what she was doing was.

 

“I couldn’t focus on our little joke of a game, because I was so busy thinking how I wanted to pin you down, rip your ridiculously short shorts and panties down and fuck you so hard and long into the concrete that your voice ends up giving out. I was too caught up imagining how it would feel to have your legs wrapped around my waist, steadying my movements while I thrust my dick into you, to mind that you’re getting ahead of me in the result.”

 

Her breath had caught in her throat and her eyes were wide as he kept spilling his most horrible of secrets that had plagued him the entire day.

 

“I asked you _kindly_ to stay away from me now, because you smell so much like flowers and fucking sunshine that the only thing I can think of is how much I want to shove my cock in you and make you scream until you can no longer take it. I told you to get off of me, because when you straddle me like that the only thing I can imagine is how great you’d look riding me till you come.”

 

He was breathing hard. Whether from excitement or from anger, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the intricate mixture of both that had winded him this much.

 

The only thing he did know was that he felt a tiny bit better voicing some of his dirty fantasies aloud, getting them off his chest. Now she ought to know to stop messing with him like this. Now she _knew_ that he was dangerous like that.

 

Hell, it was only through sheer force of will that he wasn’t dry-humping her right then. What with the tent he ended up putting up thanks to his little narrative just now.

 

She was staring up at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an incoming truck. It almost made him feel guilty for pouring all of that furious word vomit on her like that. She was at fault for it, though. If she hadn’t pushed him like that, he wouldn’t have had to take such violent course of action. She only had herself to blame now.

 

Instead of bursting in tears or slapping him like he thought she would, Satsuki merely lifted herself up from her position on the bed, her back arching to support her up as she leaned in towards him.

 

She placed the sweetest, most innocent of little kisses against his lips, much to his astonishment.

 

She eased herself down soon after, because the position wasn’t very comfortable for the muscles in her back and neck.

 

“Dai-chan, you’re finally being honest,” she said almost dotingly.

 

She confused the hell out of him.

 

“W-what?” he barely managed, stammering.

 

Satsuki snorted.

 

“Seriously, Dai-chan, how _daft_ can you be?” She rolled her eyes away from him in mock-exasperation. “Do you really think I’d wear _that_ kind of sports outfit without meaning to? How long do you think I’ve been trying to get your attention? I had to resort to _that kind_ of ridiculous outfit to get you to _look_.”

 

His jaw dropped slack while his brain tried to catch up to what exactly she was telling him.

 

He was also still very strongly aware of the fact she was pinned with her hands over her head beneath him, and he was nestled between her spread legs; not a position that accommodated for much clear-headed thinking, if he could say so himself.

 

“Were you… _seducing me_?”

 

She giggled, freeing her hands from his loosened hold on them. She cupped his face tenderly, relishing the dumbfounded look he had donned on.

 

“I’ve been trying for a while. I ended up going quite far just to get you to be honest about it, too.”

 

She pulled his head down to give him another short kiss.

 

He didn’t kiss her back yet because he still seemed stuck in shock. She tittered again, endlessly amused by how comic his reaction was.

 

“Satsuki… you…?” he managed to vocalize, stumbling over his words and thoughts for a while longer.

 

She would allow him to get there at his own pace, because he looked really cute being so flabbergasted like that. She really would have, if he hadn’t made her whole body burn like it had caught fire.

 

She rolled her hips against his pelvis, eliciting a soft groan from him. She gasped at the feeling of friction and the way her jean shorts chafed against her clit. She rolled her hips experimentally again, savouring the pangs of white hot pleasure that shot up her nerve endings from the movement.

 

“Dai-chan, are you hard?” she asked him, her voice an urgent whisper. She pushed her lower body into his again, a little mewl leaving her lips this time. “Tell me what you want to do right now.”

 

His lips parted, and he was just about to tell her he had no idea what he even thought anymore, when she pressed her sweet softness against him once more. He groaned and brushed himself against her, taking in a steadying, ragged breath.

 

“I want—” His voice cracked under the weight of all his rampaging emotions. He swallowed thickly and eased his head lower, closer to her face. “I want to touch every centimetre of you. I want to feel the shape of your entire body against my palms, memorize every bit of you.”

 

He allowed himself a shy little kiss on her lips this time, giving her little chance to return it before severing the contact.

 

“Touch me, then,” she whispered, like it was a secret, against his mouth. “Touch me however you like.”

 

He swallowed heavily. What was she saying? What was she _allowing_ him? Was she mad?

 

Still, he trusted himself to stop on time. And she _did_ say she had attempted to seduce him. Dabbling just a little bit into this insanity wasn’t going to be so bad, right?

 

“Okay,” he rasped out, resting his weight on one arm as he loomed over her. He let his other roam her body freely; somewhat shyly at first, gaining momentum.

 

He cupped her breast through her shirt, gently massaging it. He stared at his hand, transfixed, as though he couldn’t believe it was really his hand, touching her like that. He kneaded her breast, relishing the softness of her flesh. His fingers grazed over her pert nipple, hidden underneath the layers of clothing.

 

She groaned, arching her chest into his hand, spurring him on. Daiki swallowed thickly again, trying to stop himself from relinquishing to his lust entirely, but finding it difficult to keep a clear head with the way she was writhing under him.

 

He played with her breasts a while longer, then allowed his hand to start a trek downwards. He glided his fingers over the flat expanse of her stomach, then back up her side. He savoured the soft sigh she breathed out. He helped her lift herself slightly off the mattress to accommodate his fingers running down her back and skating past the small of her back to stop at her ass.

 

He groped her cheeks, lifting her slightly up and enjoying the feeling of friction it brought to the bulge in his pants. He exhaled slowly through his nose as he continued massaging the firm flesh of her ass.

 

“Take it off.” Her voice pulled him out of his lustful reverie. He peered at her, confused, unable to keep up with her train of thought. “Help me take off my shirt.”

 

His mouth ran dry at the implications of that, but soon enough her shirt was really off of her, and she’d helped him relieve her of her bra, too. He sucked on a breath as he looked at the glorious sight her bare breasts made.

 

He’d lusted after big boobs for a long time, but Satsuki’s boobs were practically perfection itself. Her skin was so milky white, soft and smooth, and they were just the perfect size by Daiki’s standards. He couldn’t get enough of her.

 

“Dai-chan,” she started in embarrassed undertones. “ _Do_ something, don’t just stare. This is getting super embarrassing.”

 

He chuckled when he realized he’d just been ogling her for a full minute before she’d felt shy. He went on to correct himself by resting his weight on his legs placed on either side of her, and busying his hands with the perfection that were her breasts.

 

He tweaked her erect nipples between his fingers, tongue flicking out to lick at one. He eased his open mouth upon her breast, suckling onto her soft flesh, while continuing to knead her other.

 

Satsuki moaned, back bowing closer into his hold. She threw her head back when he teased her nipple, and suppressed a rather strong moan against her hand when he pinched her flesh between his teeth.

 

She pulled on his shirt, urging him to take it off when it started scraping unpleasantly against her scorching skin. Daiki paused only briefly to pull it over his head before latching onto her again.

 

He kept lavishing her chest with his attentions while his hands started running down her abdomen and then rounding her back to cup her butt cheeks in his palms. He rubbed her flesh with his deft fingers, groaning against her nipple at the feel of her softness in his hands.

 

“Tell me,” she gasped out, pulling his head up from her over sensitized bosom. “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

 

His breathing was harsh while he tried to get a hold on himself, his hands still massaging her ass with spastic movements. He took in a deep gulp of air before descending for a rather fervent kiss.

 

It occurred to him that she’d allowed him to touch her however he pleased, but this was the first real kiss they were attempting. He had lost track of what was going on anymore, but he did know that he was still curious what Satsuki tasted like.

 

So he kissed her, dipping his tongue in her mouth. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he was certain they could figure it out together, as she pressed her tongue against his with equal passion.

 

His lips melded against hers in a tantalizing dance, pliant yet unyielding, demanding yet imploring, as he moved his tongue against hers in a fight for dominance. The kiss made his body temperature rise even further, until it felt like his entire being was torched.

 

He moaned into her mouth. His hand moved to follow the curve of her leg, tracing it down to her knee. He then slid his hand along the inside of her leg, running it up slowly, deliberately. He unlatched his mouth from hers with a wet pop, breathing laboured while he set to kiss her neck.

 

“I want to tear off the rest of your clothes, because I can’t wait anymore,” he murmured against her skin before planting his lips on the column of her neck. She whimpered, pressing herself more firmly against him. “I want to take off your panties and shove my cock as deep as it can go in. I want to make you feel so full of me and only me that you can never forget me.”

 

She mewled, her hips buckling into him. He groaned, licking the sensitive flesh along her collarbone and sucking down on her pulse point.

 

“I want to make you memorize the feeling of having me planted so deep in you. Feel your softness as it wraps around my dick. I want to hear the sounds you’ll make when I start pounding into your wet pussy. I want to hear you say my name while I keep fucking you harder and rougher into the bed.”

 

He was vaguely aware of the fact his language was getting cruder and fouler as he angled his head to capture her lips into another passionate kiss. His was even more vaguely aware that his precious control was slipping for him, just around the same time as his hand—which was running along the inside of her thigh—reached to the place he was painfully yearning to be.

 

He ran his hand between her legs, brushing against her as hard as he could through the layers of her clothing still in place. She moaned loudly into his mouth, pushing against the pressure he was applying to her.

 

“I want to drive you so close to the edge you start begging me to fuck you harder, deeper, _faster_ ,” he rasped out in the shell of her ear, buckling his hips roughly against hers. She gave him a low whine in response, wriggling closer against him. “Beg me to give you release, drag your nails down my back as I thrust into your sweet soft tightness.”

 

He really should’ve thought twice when she reached for his slacks’ hem and started taking them off him. He also should’ve reconsidered before he allowed his hands to push into her shorts and ease them down off her hips.

 

But he could make sense of nothing other than her lustful moans and mewls, and how delectable a sight she made with her legs spread like that for him, reacting so strongly to everything he did to her.

 

When he divested her for her shorts, he kicked his slacks down as well, his fingers now pressing into her panties unabashed.

 

He sucked on a breath again as he felt her up through her underwear.

 

“Fuck, Satsuki, you’re so wet.” She whimpered, her face turning even redder at his comment. “Does it turn you on that much, talking dirty?” he asked with a smirk. He felt pleased that for once today he had the upper hand.

 

“Only because I picture you actually doing it to me,” she told him in a sultry whisper, pulling him in for another heated kiss that knocked the wind out of him.

 

Daiki could swear that his senses were overloading. He could make sense of little beyond the powerful ache in his groin and the maddening scent of Satsuki’s arousal he could pick up mixing with her freshness. He expelled a guttural moan when she pushed her hand into his underwear, fingers running down his erection.

 

“You’re so hard,” she noted breathlessly when they parted. She directed her gaze down as she gave him a couple experimental pumps, relishing the slackening of his expression as she did so.

 

The sounds he made while she touched him there made her stomach do flip-flops in her body. The aching need from earlier returned tenfold when he let out a low groan against her neck.

 

She shimmied out of her panties—embarrassingly wet as they were—and she guided his tip to her moist entrance.

 

Daiki looked up in a panicked haze at her, mind clouded enough with lust to want to jerk his hips forward the rest of the way, but not enough to keep him from realizing what she was inviting him to do.

 

“Satsuki, I—”

 

“Don’t say anything,” she begged, pulling him in for another arduous kiss. “Please, I can’t anymore.”

 

“But—”

 

“I’m already begging,” she pointed out breathlessly, aligning herself more comfortably against him. “So _please_ , I can’t hold on any longer.”

 

He should’ve persisted more. He really should’ve resisted against the insanity a bit longer. But there was no way he could remain stoic when the head of his cock was pressing against the most heavenly sweet hotness he had ever experienced.

 

He pushed into her with one sharp thrust, burying himself hilt-deep in her. He knocked the air out of both their lungs with that one swift movement.

 

Even if he didn’t have enough of a mind about him to give her time to accustom to his size and girth, Daiki needed time to accommodate to the feeling of her wrapping so firmly around him.

 

As far as he was concerned, this was what heaven must feel like. Her velvety hot tightness wrapping around his length, pulsing and _moving_ around him even while he remained perfectly still was driving him crazy. He made a low keening sound at the way her inner walls clamped around him, trying to make room for him.

 

“It hurts,” she sobbed out, squirming a little as she tried to make herself more comfortable. He gasped at the feeling her movement incited. “Daiki, you’re too big,” she complained testily, fingers digging into his shoulders painfully.

 

He was going to make a flippant comment but when he saw the tears stinging in the corners of her eyes, he simply sighed and buried his nose against her collarbone, closing his eyes. If he looked at her or focused on the way she felt around him, he was definitely not going to last. He breathed her in slowly through his nose, running his fingers soothingly along her sides and down her legs.

 

“You’re just too tight.” Her body was not used to the intrusion. It only faintly registered with him that in that one swift movement he’d taken her virginity. “Just don’t move until you get used to it.”

 

He trailed gentle kisses up her neck and jaw, kissing her lips tenderly and kneading the flesh of her thigh while he waited for her breathing to slow down.

 

She giggled out of the blue.

 

“I really am full to the brim with Dai-chan now.”

 

He groaned loudly, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

 

“Please don’t say such stuff right now. I’m barely holding it together as it is.”

 

She rolled her hips experimentally against him, a moan tearing from her chest as she did so.

 

“You can move now, I think. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

 

He only nodded mutely, as he pulled back slightly and then pressed back in. She gasped, fingers tightening on his shoulders. Encouraged, Daiki pulled back further before sheathing himself into her again.

 

He began rocking against her at a slow, deliberate pace, as much giving her chance to get used to it as he was giving himself a chance to get used to the feeling of her.

 

The hand that had been wandering down her legs now settled on her hip, fingers digging in her flesh and stabilizing her as he continued thrusting into her. Every sharp jerk of his hips into hers sent a jolt of electricity up his spine, making his muscles spasm with mounting pleasure. She was better than the most desperate fist he’d ever made around his cock.

 

Satsuki’s legs wrapped as though on their own accord around his waist when he started picking up the pace of his thrusts. A strangled moan tore from her as she clung tighter to his frame while he rammed into her.

 

His bed creaked under the strain. The wet sound of skin slapping against skin filled the air in the room, along with their soft grunts and moans and gasps. Daiki angled himself in a way that was more comfortable for his thrusts, pulling out almost entirely before shoving his cock into her again.

 

She was saying his name like a chant now, her nipples hard. Her boobs quaked with the sharpness of his thrusts making her whole body shake. He could feel the tension building up in his spine, the tiny jolts of ecstasy crawling up his back. The sensations driving into her mind-numbing tightness elicited in his whole body blinded him, empowered him.

 

His ears were ringing from the excitement her mewls and whines and whimpers made him experience. His heart was slamming hard against his ribcage. His mind was drawing blanks, the only thing he had enough consciousness for being the white hot knot of emotion tying more and more firmly in the pit of his gut.

 

“Daiki… more… _nngh_!” Satsuki begged him while wrapping herself even more tightly around his frame.

 

He knew he wouldn’t last long when she started raking her nails down his back.

 

“Do you like it harder, Satsuki?” he whispered in her ear while slamming into her powerfully. “Do you like it rougher? Hm?”

 

She whimpered, wriggling under him. He choked on a breath when her inner walls clamped especially hard on his erection.

 

“I’m really close, Satsuki,” he told her, picking up his pace. His hand that held onto her hips was now guiding her as she met him thrust for thrust. “Will you come for me?” he whispered breathily into her ear, teeth sinking into her lobe.

 

The made a keening sound—an almost unrecognizable version of his name—as the stars behind her eyes burst, making white hot warmth wash over her being. It bathed her senses, overloading them with the intensity of the feeling, leaving her nerves tingling. Her toes curled as the throes of passion seized her, sending her over the edge.

 

Even if he wasn’t already on the precipice, seeing her come undone would’ve done him in as well. She pulled him over the edge with her, milking him of his strength and essence.

 

With a couple more shallow thrusts, he slumped over her in a boneless heap, limbs still twitching from the force of his orgasm.

 

She wrapped her arms around his head, pulling him more snugly into her embrace. She ran her fingers through his slickened with sweat hair. Her chest rumbled in an appreciative sound as she struggled to catch her breath.

 

“See? Good things happen when you listen to your King.”

 

He scoffed, rolling his eyes in disbelief before getting up to press a kiss on her lips to shut her up.

 

She released a pleased moan when he did so.

 

“We should’ve done this earlier. Though I probably should be grateful that it took us only a few weeks to get it right.”

 

Daiki couldn’t help chuckling at her comment.

 

An hour ago he would’ve laughed bitterly if anyone told him he’d be in this kind of situation with Satsuki—spent emotionally and physically, lying naked on top of her while they tried to get a hold on themselves.

 

A few weeks of restlessness were more than worth the prize at his hands now.

 

Only later, implications and subtext would start seeping in, marring the picture perfect of heaven on earth in his eyes.

 

For now, Daiki drowned himself in the freshness of Satsuki’s scent, burying his nose into her hair and breathing her in.

**Author's Note:**

> I think the smut element was weak, it got away from me halfway through. :/ I’ll make it up with better quality smut next time, I promise.
> 
> I hope it wasn’t as shabby read as I fear; I fought with this thing for a whole week and I’m still not entirely content with it. /grumbles


End file.
